


Blood In Your Mouth

by probablysleepingin



Category: Riverdale - Fandom
Genre: Blood, Crime AU, Gore, M/M, Multi, Murder AU, Stockholm Syndrome, Torture, Violence, Waterboarding, i cant think of tags but this is really bad okay, potentially an abusive relationship, spy AU
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-03-20
Updated: 2017-03-20
Packaged: 2018-10-08 06:24:14
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,260
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10380435
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/probablysleepingin/pseuds/probablysleepingin
Summary: Reggie heaves and splutters, his lungs expelling wet coughs when Jughead pulls the cloths of his head. Lack of an immediate answer earns Reggie a hit his check bone with the butt of Jughead's gun, and long slender fingers yanking at his hair until his neck pulls painfully against leather restraints. Reggie is still coughing up water, but he manages to tell Jughead he hasn't seen his sister in at least two weeks, him and his men helped smuggle her and an older women out of the country and that was the last he'd heard of them. There's a gunshot and smoke in the air, but Reggie isn't in any pain (aside from the ache deep in his lungs from his not-drowning) and thanks his lucky stars that Jughead had opted for taking his anger out on a nearby wall.





	

Jughead Jones meets Reggie Mantle in less then pleasant conditions. Neither of them are on opposite sides, but they're not fighting for the same thing, either. The way Jughead sees it is that Reggie knows things important to the Jones foundation, so he only feels a little bad when Reggie splutters under the wet cloth Jughead had covered his face with. "I know the sensation of drowning is kind of shitty, but please try to remember you actually  _aren't_." Waterboarding is probably the easiest, and lets face it, Jughead's favourite form of torture. It was relatively effective, and less messy then pulling out someone's toenails. "So, I'm gonna pull this rag off your face and you're going to tell me where my sister is, and don't fuck with me on this, because I have a gun full of led and a handful of sources that have led me to you."

Reggie heaves and splutters, his lungs expelling wet coughs when Jughead pulls the cloth of his head. Lack of an immediate answer earns Reggie a hit to his check bone with the butt of Jughead's gun, and long slender fingers yanking at his hair until his neck pulls painfully against leather restraints. Reggie is still coughing up water, but he manages to tell Jughead he hasn't seen his sister in at least two weeks, him and his men helped smuggle her and an older women out of the country and that was the last he'd heard of them. There's a gunshot and smoke in the air, but Reggie isn't in any pain (aside from the ache deep in his lungs from his not-drowning) and thanks his lucky stars that Jughead had opted for taking his anger out on a nearby wall.

"Fucking  _hell!_ " Jughead screams, and shots at the roof this time. For once Reggie is ungrateful for his isolated state of living, if he just lived in the city like every other smuggler someone would of heard the skinny man's anger by now. Reggie can't see Jughead from where he's tied down, and it's quite for an unnerving moment, and then his head is being yanked back again by the hair and wild brown eyes are looming directly over him.

"Guess you'll just have to come with me, wontcha'?" 

Reggie swallows, his throat sore and raw and full of words he's sure he'll regret eventually. 

"I guess so."

/

Reggie wouldn't say he was falling victim to a bad case of Stockholm Syndrome, not that anyone was asking, but this certainly wasn't the first time he'd had his wrists bound far too tightly in the backseat of a car, but it was the first time he'd found the situation enticing. He knows it's fucked up, Jughead, a spy for the Jones cooperation, he knows because his mother had payed him to smuggle her and his sister out of the country because they where afraid of him. Afraid of this man with wild eyes and messy hair, knuckles bruised and jaw taunt. He certainly looked a force to be reckoned with, but Reggie can't help but wounder what exactly he'd done to scare off two of the three people who had helped him fund the organisation he worked for.

 Reggie, deciding he was already a dead man, figured there was no point in denying himself the chance to quench his curiosity. "Why are you looking for your sister, anyway?"

Reggie doesn't miss the way Jughead's fists clench the stirring wheel, or the way he begins speeding more then he already is, and he certainly doesn't miss the way Jughead looks back at him in the rearview mirror. It isn't predatory or full of rage like Reggie had suspected, instead those wild brown eyes hold a look of sorrow that burns through Reggie and shakes him to his very soul. Those are the eyes of a man prepared to die.

"I want to tell her I'm sorry, and that I love her." He stops, turning the wheel and pulling the car into a darker ally and putting it into park. There's a beat of silence where Jughead exists the car and pulls Reggie out, and it's as if a switch has been flipped. He's back to the man who was ready to drown him without a moments hesitation. "You're gonna take me to the men who helped you smuggle my sister, and you're gonna introduce me to them all nice and friendly, got it?" 

Jughead unties Reggie's restraints and gives him a harsh shove towards the door to punctuate his final words. Reggie grumbles to himself, rubbing at his bleeding wrists.

"Yeah. I got it."

He leads Jughead in through the back door of the bar him and his workmates loiter in, but stops before they're completely inside and turns to Jughead, gently placing his hands on the man's chest to gain his attention. Jughead's eyes trailed up Reggie's arms, raising an eyebrow at the shorter man. 

"Here me out. These guys aren't going to just up and tell you everything you want to know just because you're here with me."

Jughead shrugged, "I'm not exactly trigger shy, Reggie."

Reggie isn't particularly sure where the sudden burst of confidence comes from, but he rolls his eyes at Jughead's nonchalance, and talks to him as if he was an old friend, and not someone who'd tied him to a table and waterboarded him several hours ago. "Yeah, well this is also a public bar. So what I'm suggesting is that we go in, sit down, and I introduce you as something...more then just friends, is what I'm trying to say. Otherwise they'll probably going to treat you like you're dirt under their shoe."

Jughead gave him a curt nod, agreeing with his plan. "So you'll introduce me as your boyfriend, then?"

"That's pretty much the plan, yeah." Reggie replied with nervous darting eyes, wringing his hands out in front of him.

"Let's get a move on, then." Jughead took Reggie's hand in his, moving his head to indicate Reggie leading the way.

Once inside the bar Jughead's grip on Reggie's hand tightened, whether it was subconsciously or not Reggie decided against commenting on it, instead helped navigate their way through the mass of people until they reached the booth Reggie's workmates where sat at.

One man with grey hair and scruff on his chin that eerily reminds Jughead of his father glances at the two of them from the corner of his eyes. Another man, taller then Jughead and somehow broader then Reggie with slicked back black hair and a cigarette dangling from his mouth spoke first, a slither of smoke seeping from his mouth. "Who's 'at, Reggie?" The way he speaks, voice broken from what Jughead can only assume is years of smoking, makes his eye twitch. "'Is not like you 'ta bring roun' strangers."

"He a client?" Asked the other, a beer half way to his lips, his eyes flittering between the two of them. 

"No-no, he's, uh, he's actually-"

"We're dating." Jughead supplies, raising a challenging eyebrow. There's a tinge of annoyance in his speech, and Reggie is marginally sure it's due to his flimsy tongue. He'd always relied on his muscle for jobs, his ability to think out plans and excuses didn't extend beyond the basics he'd discussed with Jughead before entering. However, it would seem Jughead was more of a sharp thinker then he was. "Reggie thought it'd would be beneficial if I was involved in this organisation with him, as to not put a strain on our personal relationship."

The grey haired man snorted into his beer, foam sticking to his scruff, Jughead watched it fizzle as he spoke. "Didn' take ya' for the faggot type. But alright, take a seat boys."

Upon the invitation the two of them slid into the booth, letting go of each others hands and sitting opposite each other. A conversation about their next smuggling job strikes up almost instantly but Reggie is disengaged. He's never been afraid of his job before, or the consequences he'd have to face upon being caught, but he'd also never thought of the consequence that was Jughead Jones, and now all his eyes can zero in on the hilt of Jughead's gun that's peeking out of the waist band of his jeans, and the noticeable bulge it creates in his jeans. He's anxious, his legs bouncing under the table-which earns him a discrete but hard kick to the shin from Jughead, but he's anticipating something frightening from Jughead and it makes his heart race with an unforeseen excitement. He doesn't particularly understand his emotions, he knows that after this confrontation he's a dead man, a loose end in Jughead's crusade, but for some inconceivable reason Reggie thinks Jughead might just keep him around.

"I'm curious about a job the three of you did two weeks ago, if you don't mind sharing." Jughead starts, leaning in closer to the two men. He reaches a hand out, placing it gently on Reggie's bicep. "It's just, Reggie was gone for an awfully long time and I was quite worried about him. It would do me a great deal peace of mind if I knew where he had been."

The man with greying hair squints at him, and the thug double his size seems to loom over them as he leans forward to look Jughead in the eye. Neither of them speak for a long time, instead looking between the two of them. Jughead seems to sense their distrust, and sighs, letting go of Reggie's arm and sitting back against the booth, head hung low. Hair that has come loose from his beanie hangs in front of his face in single strands, and his jaw is tense, muscles visibly ticking under his skin, and the whole image makes Reggie's skin burn and itch, and he can't deny the attraction he feels towards the man. He swallows thickly, and waits for things to unravel.

First, Jughead breaths out deeply, his hands raising to pinch at the bridge of his nose, almost as if he's fighting off a headache. "I had hoped you'd be stupid enough to tell me straight out where you smuggled my sister, considering you didn't even notice me, and I doubt my mother would of forgotten to show you a photo of the man they where fleeing from." 

The men make a move to either leave the booth or reach for a weapon, Reggie isn't sure, and he doesn't get to find out either because the second event unfolds before any of them have time to stand up. Jughead has removed his handgun from his jeans and has it pressed against the side of the bigger male, hidden from view by the rest of Jughead's body, which is also pressed up against the man. He'd moved like lightening, shifting so he stood on the cushioned seating, knees hunched and sharp bones jutting into the flesh of the man next to him. His body, long and lanky, winds around him so that he's able to look both men in the eye and make his threat. "Don't think just because it's crowded in here I won't blow your fucking brains out. Don't forget I still have little ol' Reggie here to help me out."

Lastly, the man with greying hair spits in Jughead's face. Reggie knows, obviously, that this is a mistake on the man's behalf, but not one that will announce itself immediately. Jughead scoffs, and wipes at his face. Though, he pockets his gun back in his waistband and steps up off the seat, standing and stretching, seemingly nonplussed. He turns, making a move to leave, but not before gesturing for Reggie to follow him. They leave, and Reggie hears a shaky voice call after them, calling them pussies, But Jughead ignores it so he does too. Once they're outside, back by the car Jughead kicks at the brick wall and grunts in frustration.

"I honestly thought you where going to shoot them."

Jughead faces Reggie with eyes full of fury, and his adams apple bops as he swallows. "Oh don't worry, I'm going too. I'm prepared to wait until those fucking dipshits walk out this door so I can dump there bodies in the nearest dumpster."

Reggie swallows. "Oh...You're not going to kill me, are you?"

Jughead raises an eyebrow at Reggie's question. "Have you honestly never been in a situation like this before? In your line of work? But no, I'm not going to kill you, Jesus, it's not like you have anything on me, Reggie. You knew who I was when I walked through your door, and you knew who I worked for, and how that made me untouchable. Don't get me wrong though, I'm not just dumping you here, you're still helpful." A pause, "Plus, you make a nice side piece."

Reggie feels his skin turn scarlet and Jughead's laugh booms down the allyway.

The two men don't leave the bar until quarter to one in the morning, and Reggie has started to drift off against the window of their car. He's awoken by two loud gunshots and well paced thumps. He hadn't even noticed Jughead leave the car, but he hears him enter. It's a noise hard to miss, the door shutting loudly and the engine revving under Jughead's force. They speed off out of the allyway and Reggie thinks he catches sight of an arm hanging out of the bar's dumpster.

/

Reggie is mostly convinced Jughead isn't human. They've been driving for the past three hours since Reggie had given Jughead directions to the drop off point-where he'd last seen the two Jones women. It was four in the morning and Reggie himself was drifting off yet again. He was jolted awake by Jughead's voice,quite, but firm.

"Someone once told me that explaining is an admission of failure."

Reggie isn't entirely sure how he's supposed to respond to that, but before he can open his mouth Jughead continues anyway.

"History repeats itself, and I know history. There are plenty of names in history, her's will go down in history for sure, as long as she's away from me. But, I'm selfish, and she's all I have left, all I've ever had." 

Reggie thinks that maybe Jughead thinks he's asleep, and that's why he's sharing something so seemingly personal to him. Still, instead of staying quite Reggie shifts in his seat so he can look directly at Jughead. "You and your sister where awfully close, weren't you?"

Jughead turns into a dodgy looking motel, putting the car in park and leaning back against his seat. "Nothing is more important to me then making sure Jellybean knows I didn't mean too hurt her like that, that dad set us up and-" His voice wavers and he rubs at his eyes, Reggie thinks he might be dreaming, there's no way he's seeing a side of Jughead so vulnerable. "I was fucked over, and Jellybean got the raw end of the deal."

Jughead leaves to go get them a room, and yells at Reggie to hurry his ass up into the room, they're both exhausted, and Jughead pretends he hadn't just spilled his insecurities.

/

It just sort of happens, somewhere throughout the night. Jughead is curled up in his sheets, fingers clawing into the mattress, his pained moans waking Reggie up from his slumber. It takes Reggie several moments of internal discussion before he decides that yes, he should probably wake Jughead up from whatever nightmare he's having. He crawls over to Jughead's side of the bed, leaning over him and gently shakes the black haired boy awake, brushing his sweat soaked hair out of his face. Jughead's eyes open slowly, and they look like suicide, the kind of death Reggie can see himself falling into.

"You okay, man?" Reggie asks, voice quite and gentle. The weather is warm and the space between them is even warmer. Jughead huffs out a breath and grabs hold of Reggie's upper arm, pulling him down even closer. Jughead, for the most part, is still groggy from sleep, head still heavy with night terrors, but all he sees are Reggie's soft eyes and his shiny hair and pink lips that look like home. He's not sure when or how this situation had developed into attraction but Jughead's fingers are curling in Reggie's hair on their own according and pulling him down, down, down until his lips are pressed firmly against his own.

It's not slow and it's not rough, but it's definitely the kiss of two people desperate for something out of reach, sleepless and not able to find the right lullabies to put them to rest. Reggie pulls and pulls until Jughead is naked underneath him, body slim and bones jutting out as if he was made of steal rods, his body covered in scars like train tracks. Jughead bites and grabs and draws blood but neither of them can deny the way their bodies fold into each other, like two broken jugsaw pieces from different puzzles that have somehow ended up in the same discarded box together. Jughead pants and his chest heaves afterwards, and out of reflex Reggie reaches out to pull the pale man into his side but Jughead is leaning away, kneeling over the side of the bed, digging around the black backpack he'd dumped on the ground haphazardly. He produces a small bottle of pills and throws back a handful, more then what seems like a prescribed amount and falls flat on his side, far away from Reggie.

Jughead's eyes look like suicide, but there's nothing more alluring then a slender boy with a handgun, fast car, and a bottle of pills.

/

Jughead dreams of swallowing mud, swallowing glass, the smell of blood, bruises on all four of his knuckles, his sister holding a knife out at him in self defence. He wakes up and he's still next to a naked Reggie, bruises a contrast against his skin and scabs already forming on his back from where Jughead had grabbed too hard. Jughead still feels asleep as he gets dressed, and picks up his few items. He wishes he could punch himself awake, but he can already taste blood in his mouth as he leaves Reggie unconscious in their borrowed room. He's gone before the sun rises, and there's no way Reggie will be able to follow him. He thinks about the boy he could of loved, and thinks of the sister he'd betrayed, he could come back, he told himself, come back when everything was right between him and Jellybean. Jughead knows he's lying to himself because if Jellybean doesn't want to be found she wont be, and things will never be right between them again, and there will never be no him and Reggie.

Reggie wakes up late in the afternoon, the room is cool and feels empty and he knows instantly that Jughead has left him here with the old ratty jacket Jughead had been wearing when they first met. Reggie isn't sure what he'd expected, but nonetheless he gets dressed, and pulls the jacket on, breathing in the smell of a man he would of let kill him. He stands on the curb by the skid marks he doesn't doubt where created from Jughead's speedy get away.

"Sorry about the blood in your mouth. I wish it was mine." Maybe the man he almost loved hadn't killed him, but he wore his jacket for the longest time.

 


End file.
